I had less time (no kidding) this morning, so I decided rather than trek my bulge and katundu (stuff) down to the big BL, I would take me, my new front and rear and my gear to the new cafe Nero and make it my work space! Trouble was, everyone else had the same idea given the vast back room area they newly have. There were noisy business meetings taking place, people booking accommodation and flights, a young trainee being lectured by, I suppose, her boss (I know I'm anal about noise, but you see I get so much of it from my nearest and dearest at home, that I like contrast when writing, so as to appreciate them all so much more when I get home). But no matter! My trusty husband had downloaded me some music this morning designed to drown people out and to this end, I whipped my headphones out and soon the folk around me were all at sea, bobbing off somewhere in the distance, some waving, some drowning, while I plunged into my book, carried hither by the mighty sound waves created by Karl Jenkins of whom I must now wax lyrical. Have you listened to the man? It might have something to do that I am currently novel-living in Wales that my ear is Jenkins bent, but this is mountain shaking stuff. You’ll likely be familiar with this number, thanks to its commercialisation, but good to see Karl looking like a timeless sound surfer as he conducts.
Listen for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vrhgk8Fa_QE
|A Stabat Mater state of mind|